


Jolly Red

by forty_Marris_pies



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: A Gay Christmas, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Confessions, Eliza Not Nice, Fluff, Good Santa, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Lemme think of more tags to fill empty space, M/M, Mall Santa - Freeform, Mentions other characters, One Bad Pun, Post Graduation, Reunion, Uploaded on Christmas I consider that a win, young philip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 12:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forty_Marris_pies/pseuds/forty_Marris_pies
Summary: After graduation, Laurens and Hamilton have their lives changed forever. Laurens came out to his father. Hamilton had a kid.The next time they meet, Laurens is sporting a great white beard and Philip climbs a plastic Christmas tree. Oh, and the two friends confess their love for each other.Merry Christmas.





	Jolly Red

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this is so late late late late late...

"Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!” John yells cheerily to the busy shoppers navigated their way through crowds of frantic parents and children. The mall was nearing closing hour, which meant the last minute Christmas shoppers were frantically searching for gifts before nightfall. John was proud of himself; he’d already wrapped up the present he was going to send to his friend in France, a miniature globe and a 1000 piece puzzle depicting the country of the United States.

A blonde little girl, holding a wet, sticky lollipop in her hands, pops up from the left side of his red velvet chair and practically jumps onto his lap. He was startled, cringing as the dripping lollipop scraped his makeshift beard, but put on a jolly smile to greet her.

“Hello, Missy! How can Santa help you today?”

Being a mall Santa was the only way he’d pay off his tuition, John had argued to himself in the confinement of his bath. The job was in no way luxurious, but he couldn’t help to feel a sense of pride and warmth when the children in his lap giggle in innocent joy. The blond girl nodded her head enthusiastically, stuffing her mouth with the lollipop, and as she turned, a woman ran up to the two of them, her worried expression twisting into relief.

“Oh goodness! Molly, I was scared stiff! Don’t go off on your own like that, you hear me?” Despite her harsh voice, the mother pulls the girl into a tight hug, sighing happily. John, noticing her distress, sat up in his seat.

“Your girl was a little too into the Christmas spirit, I’m afraid. But that's all right!” He pulls out a candy cane from his pocket and hands it to the wide eyed girl, the white gloves smudging saliva over the fingers. “You seem like a good girl. Molly, was it?”

Looking back at it, the lollipop should have been a sign. He’d regret treating Molly to another sweet once she spits up all around the huge plastic Christmas tree placed in the middle of the mall, which forces him to call the janitors to clean up the mess. The situation brought traffic to a stop in the mall, so when the janitor finished mopping up and rolled his bucket out of sight, the line to sit in Santa’s lap had expanded all around the food court. Children were anxious, flopping around the glossy floor, holding their exhausted parents’ hands and snacking off burgers and fries.

The first child to come up was an adorable little boy with a smile so sweet it made John forget that he was a twenty seven year old working at 7 p.m. in a New York mall. That moment was quickly forgotten, unfortunately, after John came face to face with the father coming around to listen in on his child’s wish.

Alexander Hamilton. His best friend throughout university, and also maybe the guy he’d crushed on all throughout university. And for all the following years, John could never pinpoint why. Maybe it was his witty jokes, maybe his incredible good looks had something to do with it. Maybe it was how smooth his voice was whenever he’d whisper something into his ear, or how warm he felt when they sat side by side to complain about classes. Yeah, he was really in deep back then. And now this dude has a son? Way to take a whole one-eighty. The last John had seen of him, Alexander was in a shaky relationship with some rich chick from the city; it was obvious Alexander was only with her for the money, but he never pressed him to leave.

“Lookie! Lookie!” The boy pointed his chubby finger at John’s face, pressing deeply at a random spot in his cheek. “He has dots too! Papa, lookie!” Alexander nodded, distracted by an electronics booth displaying the latest toys for kids. He hadn’t seen John yet, but then as soon as the thought crossed John’s mind, Alexander turns away from the high price tags, finally paying attention to his son. Once he faced John, however, he gaped before breaking into a wide smile.

Never before had John wished for his shift to be over with such intensity. “Laurens!” He flinched. “John Laurens? What a surprise! To find you here… of all places.” The boy jumps in John’s lap, shaking his head furiously and confusing Alexander.

John, using his two months experience of working as a mall Santa, explains. “That’s silly name!” he started in his deep, jolly voice. “I am Santa Clause, the one and only!” He gently shakes the boy clapping in his lap, unable to face Alexander’s amused face. “And who might you be?”

“Philip!” He heard Alexander chuckle nervously somewhere nearby.

“Ooh, I remember you! You were on the nice list, yes you were!” Philip cried with joy, flailing his arms through the air as though he was celebrating some kind of victory. “Now what can Santa get you this Christmas, hm?” To his surprise, Philip pulled out a neatly folded paper with writing scribbled all over it in a usual child’s handwriting. As they waited for Philip to unfold the presumed list, Alexander and John had a conversation by exaggeratedly mouthing out words.

‘ _What are you doing here_?’ Alexander asked amazed.

‘ _Talk about this later_ ,’ John responded, quickly shushing him once Philip cleared his throat to announce his Christmas list.

“Dear Santa,” he starts proudly, “for Christmas I want…” A long pause. Alexander, impatient, pushes Philip to continue, but he instead scoots closer to John’s ear to whisper, “I want Papa to be happy again.”

Not exactly what John had expected. Alexander bit his lips anxiously, unaware of the simple yet telling wish his son had just asked for. To be happy again? He’s heard wishes similar to that before, but this was different. This time, it was Alexander Hamilton, who had held his dearest affection for four long, treacherous years. They’d gone through some best and worst moments, always there for the other, but unfortunately cut each other off after university.

“Um,” John hums as Philip sits back and stuffs his list back into his pocket. “Well, I’ll… do my best.” Satisfied, Philip mumbles a soft ‘ _thank you_ ’ and slides off of Santa’s lap to jump into his father’s arms.

The baby next in line began wailing, presumably because of how long they’ve had to wait to meet Santa. Alexander still hadn’t left. “Philip, why don’t you go talk to the reindeer while I ask Santa for something as well, hm?” The reindeer he was referring to was a man in a full reindeer costume, huge buggy eyes and creepy hoofs that resembled claws. Hesitant, Philip slowly walks to the costume and shyly waves his hand.

John sighs. “And for some reason, those guys get paid more than I do,” he comments to Alexander, shaking his head with a tired smile. “Tell me, wouldn’t I make a great elf? You know, Santa’s little helper? I could waltz around the Santa seat and scare away the animals.”

“John, what the hell are you doing here?” Alexander exclaims a little too loudly. “A mall Santa? Really? I thought you were studying medicine, what happened?” Although structurally the question may have seemed offensive, the voice Alexander used leaned more towards concern.

What had happened? Simple. “My father.” Apparently, the answer didn’t explain anything. “He, uh, locked me out from my accounts and stopped sending me money. I had to go around doing odd jobs just to pay for school.” John doesn’t dare make eye contact with Alexander; he can practically feel them on himself.

“…Okay, sure,” Alexander accepts, “but you wanna tell me what you did to tick the senator off that much?”

“Oh, you know,” he sighs, slipping deeper into the red velvet chair. Turning to a new source of noise, John watches Philip happily pulling at the reindeer’s antlers, tugging with too much force for a child, and then he realizes why the reindeer get paid more than him. “Told my father that I’m gay.”

Alexander nods understandingly. “How’d you come out?” he asks softly, sounding sympathetic.

“Thanksgiving dinner.” He can tell Alexander’s reaction without having to look at him. “I know, right? What better way to interrupt my father’s rant on political views than to tell him his son is a disappointment. I mean, compared to him,” John points to Philip, giggling at the sparkling lights of the tall Christmas tree, “it’s seems you’ve had a better turn for the worse.”

“I’d scold you for talking that low self esteem bullshit again if… you weren’t right.” An alarm rings from a store above them, for about the hundredth time that day. “Eliza didn’t like that I wasn’t into her, funny huh? Only reason she still hangs out with me is ‘cause of our boy. She’d kill me if something ever happened to him, and I mean, I would too.” From above, someone is escorted by security. Most of the time, the alarm only goes off because the cashiers forgot to remove the detection tags. The shoplifter attracts attention from onlookers on both floors, Alexander included. “Wow, tough luck.”

“And what about you becoming a lawyer?” John inquires, unaffected by an unusually common sight.

“Oh, no, I am a lawyer. Working at one of the best firms in the state. You know what? You’re right; you’ve had it worse.” John nods, I told you so. “But I’m still struggling right now. Philip has a condition. I don’t want to get too much into it —” Shouting, then the security are off on a chase to catch the escaped shoplifter running to who knows where, considering the crowd was too chaotic to find an exit. The guy runs down the escalator, pushing anyone in his way and toppling over bags of clothing.

A lady shouts for seemingly no reason, and then the whole mall is scrambling to get a better view of the shoplifter. Alexander stares gaping. “Is this for real?”

“Well this is new,” John comments.

He trips, jumps on his feet, passing by the tree and allowing John to see that he was carrying a television – a television! — in his arms. Probably already broken with all the damage done to the box, John thinks. “I was here on Black Friday, too,” John jokes to Alexander.

“Ah shit,” Alex claps sarcastically, “he got caught.”

Indeed, the guy was tackled to the floor by a guard and everyone cheered. Not like he was doing much damage other than pushing bystanders around. The mall, chattering after the spectacle, returned to their grievances and worries of Christmas shopping last minute. Thankfully, the line to meet Santa had been scattered, giving time for John to address Alexander.

“You, uh, you were talking about your son?”

“Oh! Yeah! Shit, I almost forgot you were here.” He clears his throat. “It’s a rare condition. He takes medication but… right now, there’s no cure.”

“I’m sorry.” John takes off his fake glasses. “Looks like we’ve both steered off the path we were going for.”

“I know you didn’t like Eliza,” Alexander speaks up after a pause. “I mean, when we used to be friends in uni, I know you disapproved—”

“I disapproved of the two of you.”

“Right—”

“And we’re still friends.” John tenses, rubbing his white gloves together. “I mean, we are still friends, right?” Alexander opens his mouth to answer, but John interrupts him yet again. “Look, I know we went our separate ways after graduation, but I had the time of my life with you…,” panicking, John searches for something else to say, “… and Lafayette. The three of us? We fucking ruled.”

“Hey, you still in touch with french fry? Thought he went back to France?”

“Dude, dude.” John grabs Alexander’s arm, smiling in a way that would have made Alexander’s heart catch in his throat if he wasn’t wearing a cheap Santa costume. “He found me on Twitter.”

“Sounds like him.”

“I was like, ‘Who’s this dude harassing me in my DMs?’ And it turns out he’d asked for a friend request on Facebook but we both know I don’t use that anymore so he’d try searching for me on Instagram and Snapchat—”

“I thought you held a deep hatred for Snapchat.”

“Oh, I do, that’s why he didn’t find me. Anyways, fast-forward a while later, he and I got on skype and we’ve been talking for two years.”

“Well shit. Least you’ve had someone to drop your complaints into. Eliza, uh, has not been the kindest these past years.”

“Oh, are we competing now? Who’s had the shittier life?” John pretends to roll up his sleeves and leans in to talk to Alexander. “Alright, here’s what’s good. Or, you know, bad. My dad kicked me to the curb and I had to live in a car for six months.”

“Oh yeah?” Alexander scoffs. “How’s this for bad? I worked minimum wage at a _McDonald’s_.”

“I had to steal from a restaurant’s dumpster.”

“Ew. I got hit with the heel of a shoe. By Eliza’s sisters. Both of them.”

“I gave up my dream of becoming a doctor to pick up poop at the zoo.”

“I live next to _Aaron Burr_.”

“I had to — Wait, you actually live next to Burr?” Alexander nods his head, shrugging as he smiles at John face palming. “I thought you hated him? Does he go to your house to ask for salt?”

“Are you saying I’m salty? John, I thought I was your friend.” There’s a buzz in front of the two where the line has grown not only in size but also in impatience. The clear ceiling above showed just how late into the night it was getting. “And as much as I hated him at uni, he’s actually been a very big help.”

John giggles, tapping Alexander on his shoulder. “So…” Alexander, unaware of what John was planning to say, motioned for him to continue. “If he’s living next to you…”

The intentions in his voice sounding very much like the prelude to a joke, Alexander starts to shake his head. “John, no.”

“Then I guess…”

“Please no.”

“You could say…”

“I’m begging you, don’t do it.”

“He’s your… neigh _Burr_.” He bursts out laughing, kicking his red boots in his chair as he tosses his head back, while Alexander groans, unappreciative of his friend’s pun. If there was one flaw Alexander found in his friend, and truth be told he rarely found any flaw in the sculpted-by-gods John, was that his jokes sometimes consisted of bad puns.

“This is why your father disowned you, John.” It may have been a sensitive thing to say, but John found it to be extremely amusing, laughing even harder than before. And because laughter from John Laurens is rare and contagious, Alexander couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I will never understand your love for these silly jokes.”

John shrugs, calming himself and fixing his posture in the chair. “I am… unappreciated in my time.” Someone starts shouting in the middle of the completed forgotten line that John is supposed to be attending to. A mother, most likely, with her child throwing a tantrum — and not just a few cries, but a full on-the-floor shaking-on-the-ground tantrum. The mother is looking at John with such an intense glare that he flinches back and curls into himself. “Umm…”

“What a crowd,” Alexander hums. “I think I’ve overstayed my visit.” He doesn’t move.

“I don’t want to be murdered in a Santa costume, Alexander, do you mind?”

“I miss you,” he blurts out. John freezes. “I’ve missed you. A lot. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought, ‘I wish John could help me out right now.’ Gosh, sometimes I wonder whether what I went through would have been easier if you were there with me.” He searches in John’s eyes and finds the same longing he’s expressing. “And being with Eliza, I always regretted not admitting how I really felt about you.”

“You…”

“I really liked you.” He didn’t miss the growing smile on John’s face. “And looking at you in that… _stupid_ Santa costume, I can tell that I still like you. I’m so glad that I just happened to find you here because I would have lived a loveless life if I never got to just say that to you.” He waits for John’s response, but John hides his face by lowering it to an angle. Alexander bends down to watch his face from below. “John. Are you blushing?”

“I… no.”

“You are, aren’t you? Aw, what a cutie—”

“Alex!” He smiles bashfully, meeting Alexander’s eyes and proving the he was indeed blushing. “You’re confessing your love to a mall Santa and I’m to one who’s embarrassed?”

“To be fair, you're a very attractive mall Santa.” They both laugh, ridding themselves of any tension they’d been carrying before. It takes a ton if willpower to stop Alexander from all but smothering John in front of everyone in the mall, kissing him senselessly and holding him tightly so he never loses him again. “So?” John nods in questioning. “You wanna get together sometime? Maybe go and eat, I don’t know, like a date?”

“I’d love to.” And a million sparks fly around them. Figuratively. Alexander steps away, awkwardly scratching his neck and almost tripping on his own feet but not caring because he’d finally go on a date with his crush. “Alex.”

His name snapped him out of euphoria. “Hm?”

“Can I at least get your number?”

“Oh! Yeah, hold on.” He struggles to fish out his business card, patting every pocket until he finds it in his jacket. “Here. Just ask for me, and then we can talk.” He’s about to walk away until once again John calls for him, amusement evident. “You know,” Alex teases, “I’m starting to think you don’t want me to leave.”

“Alex.” The way he says his name send shivers down his spine, and he relishes hearing John’s voice speak to him with new meaning.

“Yes?”

“You forgot your son.”

Alexander almost slips. “Oh.” Philip was scrambling on the Christmas tree, hanging from the wire of yellow lights while the man in the reindeer costume seemed to be having an existential crisis. “Philip, get down from there! C’mon, grab on to my hand.” He scurries over to bring Philip down, his son giggling and laughing about seemingly nothing. After safely securing him on the ground, Alexander brushes off plastic tree leaves and tucks him under his arm.

“I’ll see you soon then, John,” he yells.

“But that’s Santa, papa!” Philip points out.

Alexander nods, snapping his finger. “Of course, what am I saying. Take care Santa!” Santa waves goodbye, already being tackled by the next child in line. “Merry Christmas!”

**Author's Note:**

> late late late late late late.
> 
> Late.


End file.
